


The Fox and the Wolf (No, not that wolf! The other one!)

by ambersagen



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: A happy fic with a cute ending because this election 2020 is the WORST and I am DONE, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animal Jaskier, Animal Transformation, Cursed Jaskier, Flirty Jaskier, Fluff, Fox Jaskier, Geralt is just a friend, M/M, Soft Eskel, The meet just before the Djinn, shy Eskel, who is about to get some sense bullied into him maybe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:08:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27399988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambersagen/pseuds/ambersagen
Summary: Eskel was minding his own business after a hunt (ok he was bleeding out a bit and exausted but still, he wasn't out looking for trouble), when an injured fox stumbles into his camp.Of course he couldn't just leave the animal to die.There was no fox when he woke up.
Relationships: Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 19
Kudos: 312





	The Fox and the Wolf (No, not that wolf! The other one!)

**Author's Note:**

> *Aggressively throws fluff at life* FUCK THIS WEEK.  
> Gift fic for a lovely friend.

A successful hunt, as every Witcher knows, is a hunt you can walk away from. This was drilled into those that walked, exhausted to bed each night, from training without having fallen to their death or having been blown up in an alchemy accident. It was drilled into those that staggered and limped away from the death soaked tables of the trials. It was repeated like a mantra on the path their first, second, _endless_ years as they walked away from fight after fight, hunt after hunt. Until one day they didn’t walk away at all.

Tonight was a successful hunt, whatever the state of his hip and thigh might imply, bleeding and shredded as they were. His fingers fumbled, slick with his own viscera and numb with too many potions on top of the wound, clumsily threading a needle and knotting the thread. He walked away from this hunt today, and he would survive this too.

So Eskel sat alone by his fire, his horse grazing peacefully in the grass beside him as he stitched and bound himself back together.

His peaceful night was broken by screaming.

A human, unfamiliar with forestry or what living on the road entailed, city dwellers or their ilk, might have mistaken the screaming for a woman in distress. It certainly _sounded_ like someone being murdered, a horrible noise all Witchers were sadly familiar with in their line of work. But decades of living on the road had familiarized Eskel with all manner of wildlife. He knew this was the call of a fox, ridiculous animals that they were.

But as the sound echoed its eerie shrieking out into the calm of the night he reconsidered. The fictional human of his imagination would have been right about the murdering. Something -or someone- had hurt the animal, and it sounded like it was coming straight toward his fire in its distress.

Sure enough, with another shriek and a pained, stumbling limp the fox fell into the clearing. Dragging what looked like half the forest along behind it by something caught around it's head the poor animal staggered to a halt in front of his fire. It was panting, unsteady on its feet and obviously at the end of it's stamina, having spent it fleeing whatever had happened to it. 

For a moment Witcher and fox stared at each other in surprise, both wounded, the gaze of unnatural amber facing a shocking blue.

Fast as a snake Eskel leaped, not giving himself time to consider his own actions as he threw the blanket he had used to slow his bleeding over the shaking animal before it could even consider biting him.

The animal protested, but it must have been more injured than he thought, or perhaps just far too worn out from running, as it barely put up a fight while he bound it up securely. He had helped out all manner of animals in his years on the path, and he admitted truthfully at himself, he was already resigned to nursing yet another stray back to health. He supposed that everyone needed a hobby, and he did miss having something living to care for besides his horse. He had left Lil Bleater at Kaer Morhen this year after a close call with a griffon had left him too shaken to consider putting her in harms way for a while yet. 

The fox wiggled under the blanket, giving a protesting bark at his inattention, and he shook himself from his thoughts. He hadn't been expecting a project tonight but it wasn't like he could let the animal suffer. 

A long rope trailed out from under the hastily constructed prison and he realized this was the source of all the forest detritus trailing along after the animal. A leash of some sort, Eskel thought, holding the squirming, yelping bundle tightly under one arm as he began pulling free branches and other bits of forest that had gotten caught in the thing. A rope snare gone wrong possibly, although he wondered how the animal hadn’t snapped its neck if so.

"Looks like someone was lucky not to be a pelt on some hunter's wall," he mused, patting the lump under the blanket as it gave a nervous growl at his ministrations.

By the time he had worked the rope free and clear the fox had gone limp enough that he felt the need to risk a peek at his new friend, just to make sure it wasn't being strangled to death or something. Slowly, he maneuvered the animal until he had it pinned by his hold on the blanket as well as pressure from his knee holding it down, wincing as crouching jostled his hip and praying it didn't fuck with his stitches. Although the potions and salve he had applied were doing their job admirably, the last thing he needed tonight was to pull the wounds back open. 

He became more concerned as all his jostling of the animal elicited no response beyond a few almost inaudible whines. He really hoped he wouldn't have to put the animal out of it's misery tonight. 

Once he was sure the animal was secure enough to prevent any biting incidents he carefully pulled back the blanket. 

The fox blinked up at him, big blue eyes wide and ears pinned back against its skull. He could smell blood, but only faintly. He moved his free hand slowly up, holding it out and still for a moment to let the animal become acquainted with the idea of being touched. The fox was surprisingly calm, and he could actually hear its heart rate slowing. Hoping this was a good sign he took his chances and reached out to the rope that was wrapped around it's neck. 

The fox gave a couple protesting squeaks as his fingers followed the shape of the noose, which had tightened considerably against the animal's throat, probably pulled tight as the fox had pulled it free from wherever the rope had been tied to. He pushed his fingers up under the rope near the knotted part, causing the fox to give a few hacking protests and begin to wiggle in his hold. 

"Steady there, easy." He soothed, keeping his voice low and as comforting as possible. Animals may not speak human languages but they understood a kind voice when they heard it (although you could never discount the odd magical creature being able to understand you so he found it best to keep his words polite. Lambert called him a soft touch but he wasn't about to risk getting himself cursed if the fox turned out to be fae or some such creature. Lambert could suck his dick).

With slow determination he worked the knot free, unwilling to try a blade this close to the animal's neck lest he hurt the creature. It wasn't completely docile, at once point letting out an ear bleeding scream as he accidentally pulled on a tuft of fur that had been caught in the rope, but for the most part the fox was a good patient and let him do what he needed to do.

"There," he said, giving a relieved sigh as the noose finally slipped free, coiling to the dirt at his feet. "Isn't that better?" 

The fox seemed to agree, giving a small yip and shaking its head vigorously. He grinned at the fox as it tried to wiggle around to look at its own neck. The animal's ears were no longer tucked back, and he could almost smell it's gratitude at having been freed. He checked the fur around it's neck carefully, but found no open abrasions or swelling. 

Satisfied that he had done what he could, he indulged himself just enough to give the fox a few pats on the head. Hey, it wasn't like the animal could pay him for his services, enduring a little petting was the least it could do. 

With a grunt he stood up, wounded leg stiff but not overly aching as the fox had given so little resistance to being held captive. Taking a step back he pulled the blanket off, freeing the animal back into the world.

The fox sneezed, startled at the sudden removal of its prison, and for a while simply lay on the ground as if unsure if it were truly free. He watched as it peered around at him uncertainly. When the Witcher made no move to either chase it off or confine it again the fox finally rose up on unsteady feet. He was glad to see it didn't seem to have any other injuries, and he wondered if it would stay long enough to eat something if he were to grab some jerky from his pack. He slowly lowered the blanket, but the fox didn't startle. In fact, it took a tentative step forward, its nose twitching and wet under the glow of the campfire. He held his breath as it walked slowly closer, sniffing the air curiously.

The fox finally stopped, legs stiff and nose outstretched. He tried not to be unnerved by the way it was staring at him, so intently, like it knew something. He was a monster hunter for fucks sake. It would be embarrassing to be scared of a fox. 

When he made no move back the fox let out a plaintive whine, moving slowly toward him with stiff steps, as if afraid he would strike out. When he made no move to chase it away the animal leaned up, like it wanted to press it's nose to his face. He sat still as stone as the animal inspected him, intent on something about his face. Its dazzlingly blue eyes stared into his, and there was something almost like recognition in its gaze.

Suddenly, the fox suddenly let out an excited shriek, and he flinched. His hand almost went for his sword but the animal seemed almost sheepish about it's actions, backing away with its wagging tail tucked between its legs. It was clear the animal was happy and excited about something. Eskel was just puzzled by the animal's behavior, but his moment of hesitation seemed invitation enough for the fox, who perked up and approached him again, with more confidence this time. He watched as it sniffed him all over, its fluffy tail wagging in excitement as it gave extra attention to his hands, and chest, his medallion making the fox sneeze and shaking the thing loose from where it lay on his chest. It gave a distressed little whine when it reached the bandages on his leg and side.

"No, it's fine. Don't need to worry about that." He murmured to it, reaching tentatively out to pat it's head, which it seemed to enjoy very much. For some reason he felt compelled to comfort it. Maybe it was a magic fox, and he was being put under a spell. He humored that thought as he finally rose to get that jerky out of his bag. He would never live it down if a magical fox enchanted him, compelling him to save it and feed it all his supplies. Of course, if that were true then no one had to know. It's not like the fox was going to tell anyone, he thought, absently patting the animal as it happily scarfed down his offerings. 

"You better not kill me in my sleep." He told the animal jokingly, as he set up his bedroll for the night and the fox showed no sign of leaving. Of course he doubted even a magical fox would be able to get the jump on a Witcher, but he considered just meditating for the night, before dismissing the thought entirely. He was exhausted from his hunt, and the fox was now wiggling its way up towards him on its tummy. It was adorable, and clearly begging to be allowed closer. 

He wondered if it had been a pet. That might explain the rope. 

"Alright, come on in," he gave a come hither gesture and almost jumped in shock as the fox practically launched itself at him, but all the happy wiggling and barely tempered whining and yelping made it clear the animal wasn't about to rip his throat out. "You better not snore." He told it, giving a satisfied groan as he lay down at last. Goddess he was tired. What a weird night, and a weird companion. The fox didn't seem to find anything odd about their situation, tucking itself into his side and almost immediately falling asleep, dead to the world. Which, fair enough. He supposed the fox was just as exhausted as he was.

“Goodnight little fox,” he said, smiling at the small groan and stretch the beastie gave out in its sleep. He pecked a sentimental kiss on its bristly head, much like he had done to Lil Bleater last time he saw her, before rolling over and shutting his eyes. He let the ambient sounds of the forest, and the regular breathing and heartbeat of the fox be his lullaby that night.

——

There was no fox when he woke up.

He froze, instincts kicking in before his eyes were even open. His senses stretching out the moment he became conscious and registering the much larger, much louder form of a man on the bedroll beside him. He could smell roses and sweat, the man had obviously recently spent time rolling around in the woods, but there was no blood scent or fresh anxiety, and he determined by the regularity of the man’s breathing that he was still deeply asleep. Slowly, Eskel opened his eyes and turned to face his companion.

Sure enough, where last night he had let a sleeping fox lie, today there was a sleeping man, along with the lingering scent of chaos.

Carefully, so as not to wake the sleeping man, Eskel leaned in to get a better look. Dark bags blackened the space under closed eyes on otherwise youthful skin as they betrayed possibly several days worth of little sleep. The man didn’t so much as twitch when Eskel lightly dragged his hand down over the magically formed clothing (although the entire man had been magically conjured from a fox so maybe they had come original with the guy), searching the brightly colored but completely filthy and frayed material for weapons. His bed companion was far too gone into dreamland to do more than shift slightly when Eskel rose, his hand twitching out to the now vacant spot as if seeking out the Witcher.

No. It wasn’t him the man was seeking. Surely he searched, even in his sleep, for some comely lover who must warm his bed every night. Because the boy --man? The man was beautiful, even with the evidence of his ordeal tarnishing his physical features. The only sure thing was that he was no longer a fox, and that confused Eskel completely. He wondered what the man had done to become the target off such a curse, for now he found himself foolishly hoping that all the ideas that first came to mind, that the man stole from a witch or was unkind, were wrong.

His brother’s would have a good laugh at him if they could see him so suddenly and foolishly love struck just by looking at a stranger.

Well, fuck them. He hadn't had a content, fully willing bed-mate in years, not since he got his scars. It was only natural to feel a little attached or even possessive of the first nice thing he had experienced in an age. And besides that the fox had been nice, endearing in the few moments they had spent together. It had never attempted to bite him, or even snarl at his handling of it.

Out in the grass somewhere behind him, a bird gave a warning call, and his horse tossed its head at the sound, snorting and pawing at the ground. 

The man stirred, and Eskel tensed, eyes flicking to the side where both his swords waited at the ready.

"Oh Melitele," the man moaned, rolling over and covering his eyes with his arm. "What was in that bottle last- OH!"

He shot upright on the bedroll, and then immediately sagged forward, holding his head. Unable to help himself, Eskel snorted in amusement at his antics, alerting the man to his presence. 

“I’m back?” The man looked adorable, face puffy with sleep and words lisping as he tried to right his tired mind. “How? No, wait.” He sat up, swaying with the movement as he became reacquainted with his human body. His attention zoned in on the Witcher, and Eskel was reminded instantly of the weird staring contest the fox had held with him last night just before deciding he was friendly. Apparently the man version also found him acceptable for whatever reason as he staggered forward, beaming. “Thank you, sir Witcher! I don’t know how you did it but you have lifted a terrible and unjust curse from an innocent man this day!” He lurched forward, taking Eskel's hand and then, to the Witcher's shock, using it to leverage himself up into a grateful embrace.

Eskel patted the man on the back, awkwardly, completely unprepared for this level of chattiness or....touchiness from his companion. But then again. The man had been cursed into fox form, and foxes were not quiet animals at all, and the fox had been a cuddle slut. So he probably should have guessed.

The man was still embracing him.

Actually, scratch that. The man was embracing and _sniffing_ him, pressing his face into the crook of his shoulder just below the spikes, taking deep huffing breaths and humming happily at whatever it was that his nose was picking up.

“Ok there?” Eskel asked dubiously, enjoying the sudden flush that shot up the mans neck like a sunrise. He mourned the warmth of human (was the man human? He said something about a curse, so he likely wasn't a natural shapeshifter) contact as the man stepped back, clearing his throat as he let his arms awkwardly fall to his sides.

“Apologies good sir," the man said, trying for a bow and almost falling over as he again lost his balance. Eskel wondered how long he had spent as a fox to be so unused to two feet. "I fear something of the curse still remains in me. No doubt it will fade soon enough! I hope. Yeah.” He trailed off, fidgeting.

“Eskel.” He grunted out, and immediately wanted to smack himself. Gods forgive him, he sounded like Geralt with his one word answers.

“What was that?” The man perked up, and Eskel had to clench his fist lest he got any funny ideas about petting this companion. Even a mess, the man was stunning, and he mourned not having been aware last night that he slept next to such an attractive specimen. 

“My name." He clarified, clearing his throat. "I’m no lordling, to be called sir. My name is Eskel.”

“Oh!" The man smiled, and Eskel bit back a dreamy sigh. Ridiculous, he needed to pull himself together. 

"Well, I am glad to meet your acquaintance lovely and gallant Eskel! I am Jaskier!" The man, Jaskier, gave a proper bow this time, with flourish. "Bard extraordinaire and unfortunately something of a lordling myself, but I won't hold you to acknowledging that, understand. Gives me hives. Please call me Jaskier.”

“Jaskier.” He ruminated on the name, something tugging at his memory. "Jaskier, as in Geralt’s bard, Jaskier?”

Jaskier lit up. “Ah! You’ve heard of me! Excellent! That makes it so much less awkward to say I have heard rather good things about you too," he babbled, gesturing at all of Eskel as he talked. "Geralt’s dependable, kind, immensely talented brother and Witcher of the Wolf school Eskel Amber-eyed.”

He could have sworn he heard his horse snort at that. His ears burned. 

“There’s no fucking way you heard any of that flapgob from Geralt.”

“Oh, that and more!" Jaskier rushed to reassure him. He was tugging and brushing halfheartedly at his ruined clothes as he chattered at Eskel. He barely took a breath between words, and Eskel was a little concerned he might just kill over from excitement. "I must admit, after hearing even a few stories about you I may have developed something of an...inadvisable and most likely embarrassingly unwanted crush on Geralt's amazing brother. The best of the Wolves, as he named you.”

“In-inadvisable?” Eskel was in hell. Or heaven. He was so confused, and that was not a great state for a Witcher on the Path to be in. 

“Wouldn’t you say so?" Jaskier seemed encouraged by his reaction, if the anticipatory way he leaned in meant anything. "It must be awkward, having a silly human desire you so passionately without ever even having met.”

“Desire?” He mimicked back, like a dunce. 

Jaskier grinned. “Oh, I see now. The Kiss of Innocence Over Lust. I _thought_ she meant the kind of kissing that got me a witch’s ire in the first place. But innocence. Of course a pure soul like you _would_ kiss a tired and hurting animal goodnight." He sighed dreamily, eyes shinning. "That's...adorable."

Eskel was done. "I am not adorable, bard. I'm a Witcher. And I need to get going. Monsters don't kill themselves." He moved, finally breaking eye contact with the man as he hurriedly grabbed his stuff from around camp. "I'm glad you are no longer cursed. I would advise steering clear of witches in the future." He rolled up his bed roll, wincing a little as the movement pulled at his mostly healed wounds. 

“Oh, let me get that for you!" Jaskier exclaimed, nudging him back from the blankets and fussing over him till he sat down. "I know you're injured, and I _do_ thank you. You didn't have to help me last night. It was very kind of you." He made a face at the blanket, now almost unsalvageable with the amount of blood and fox fur on it. He rolled it up anyway, then, squaring his shoulders he turned to Eskel, determination in his eyes. 

"Please, allow me to accompany you and repay my debt." 

Eskel just stared at him. Jaskier stared back. Jaskier tilted his head. Then he smiled, and his body loosened back to that oh so appealing casualness that Eskel had NEVER seen a human wear around a Witcher. 

"Oh, there's no need to worry about hard feelings," Jaskier said, answering some question Eskel hadn't been aware he had asked. "Geralt ditched me back in Cintra a year or so ago. Something about being a total ASS and a _bloody coward_ over his newly acquired child surprise.” He looked hopefully at Eskel, and the Witcher knew if the bard had still had a tail he would be wagging and wiggling along with those big, begging eyes. “That means I’m free, in case I wasn’t clear enough.”

Eskel sighed, rubbing his eyes. He was weak, and there was only so much he could do to put off the inevitable. Not when there was the possibility of maybe more touching, or even bedtime cuddling at stake.

“Do you do this often?” He asked, more in general than actually expecting an answer.

“Get cursed into the body of an animal?" Jaskier gave it a thought. "Depends. Curse yes, occasionally. The animal thing was new though.”

“I _meant_ inviting yourself along to travel with dangerous strangers.”

“Oh! Well, in general no. I actually quite like my body in one piece. But I always make an exception for Witchers. That goes double for the handsome ones,” he said with a wink. “And besides that, you can keep me company until we find Geralt, and then you can help me yell at him until he sees sense!”

Gods. How had Geralt managed to escape this man's orbit? Eskel was well and truly trapped already. 

“I see….I suppose I am…” Eskel swallowed as the man trailed long, surprisingly strong fingers teasingly up his arm. “I am agreeable to that.”

“Oh good." Jaskier patted him on the shoulder, and he gave the Witcher a knowing look when he leaned into the touch. "I think we shall have lots of fun together! Provided we steer clear of any more witches.”

Eskel swallowed deeply, unable to look away from Jaskier as the man sashayed over to greet his horse, but not before giving the Witcher's arm a teasing pinch. He wondered if the man would scream as loudly as a fox while fucking. He was beginning to look forward to finding out.

**Author's Note:**

> As always comments feed my writing
> 
> come say hi at ambersagen.tumblr.com


End file.
